


The Ducati

by blue_crow



Category: Tron (1982)
Genre: M/M, Motorcycle Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-14
Updated: 2011-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_crow/pseuds/blue_crow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn gets hot over his new motorcycle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ducati

The Ducati is the hottest thing he's ever had beneath him, save maybe Alan on a good day.

Well, that's not fair, and he knows it. Alan is incredibly hot. The way he moans when he comes, and his legs tense around his hips and- yeah, the second he gets home he pages Alan to come over right that minute. He can't help himself. He's not sure whether he's more turned on by the idea of having Alan underneath him, or from the long ride through LA on his sexy new machine.

It takes forever, but then Alan is pulling his car into the driveway. Flynn meets him in the garage, where he's bent over the motorcycle, polishing the mirrors, aware that his ass is raised enticingly for Alan's benefit.

"You said there was an emergency?" Alan asks, and there's a hint of a smirk in his voice.

"Sure is," Flynn grins. "Close the door, huh?"

Alan obeys and Flynn stands up, stretching tall, his grease-stained teeshirt pulling up and exposing his stomach. Yeah, that did the trick, and Alan was back to staring at him. Magic.

"Come here, I gotta show you something," Flynn says, and leads Alan over to the bike.

Alan gives him a look. He's figured out where this is going, evidently, and he's silently communicating 'I will indulge you in this, because I am a good boyfriend.'

"Come on, just… touch it. You'll like it. I promise," Flynn entices.

"I think I've heard that one before," Alan quips, but he kneels down to run his hand over the length of the exhaust pipe, teasing it, and Flynn catches himself staring, open-mouthed.

"Uh," he murmurs, as Alan's hand ghosts over the engine, petting it seductively.

"I could learn to appreciate this," Alan smirks, pleased with the obvious affect his actions are having on Flynn.

"Please do," Flynn purrs, petting a hand over Alan's back. Alan strokes up to grip the handlebar, and the way he wraps his fingers around it makes his mouth go dry.

"How about you help me catch up, hotshot?" Alan asks, repositioning himself to sit on the bike, leaning back towards the handlebars and unzipping his fly.

Flynn is on his knees in a second, licking along the underside of his cock, palming himself through his jeans.

Alan gasps softly, petting his hair with one hand, and with the other, changes the angle on the mirror, so that Flynn can watch himself if he wants. Flynn can't help himself, and takes Alan's cock into his mouth, admiring the way it stretches his cheek. There's so much to watch, with Alan's cock in front of him and reflected, and the way that Alan's hand is petting over the leather seat. The visual stimulus is nearly overwhelming.

Once Alan is good and hard, Flynn tugs his slacks down and teases his tongue over his entrance. Alan swears softly and arches further back, spreading his legs further and inviting Flynn's attention.

"Fuck, Flynn, this doesn't… feel very stable…" he gasped, as he'd lifted one of his legs to allow better access.

Flynn pulls back and smirks, tugging Alan's pants the rest of the way off of him, along with his briefs. "Turn over, then. Hands on the handlebars… yeah, just like that," he purrs, as Alan does, his naked thighs spread enticingly on either side of the Ducati, his ass tense. It takes willpower for Flynn not to just rut against his ass until he's come.

Instead, he reaches to unbutton Alan's dress shirt, kissing the back of his neck as he does. Alan releases the handlebars one hand at a time to allow Flynn to remove his shirt and his jacket, and once he's got him naked, Flynn shrugs off his own shirt and unzips his jeans.

He reaches into his back pocket for lube, and teases his fingers over Alan's entrance, just barely enough to make him squirm, so he can watch as he rubs his cock over the seat. Alan pushes back against his fingers, trying to get them inside himself, and Flynn has to indulge him, stretching him just enough to make it comfortable for him. Then he straddles the bike as well, until he realizes it isn't exactly going to work out. His legs are spread too wide and he's too low for him to really get leverage.

Instead, he pulls Alan's hips back, so that he's stretched along the length of the bike, and his ass is arched up at the end. It makes him think of the way the lightcycles stretched the body out more so than the motorcycle does, and it adds an extra layer to how desperate he is to push into Alan. He angles against him, bending one his knees against the side of the bike, one of his hands reaching to hold the handlebar alongside Alan's hand, and finally the position doesn't feel too awkward.

Alan moans suddenly as Flynn fills him, his hips rocking steadily back against him. He's as eager as ever, muttering compliments for the size of Flynn's cock, and Flynn turns the mirror so that he can watch Alan's face as he fucks him. Alan's eyes meet his in the glass, and Alan pointedly licks his lips. Flynn has never been able to reconcile how dirty Alan can be with how proper and uptight he usually is, and while he wants to blame his own influence, he knows the power is Alan's and not his.

The position is still awkward, there's no doubt about that, and Alan does half of the work, practically riding him as Flynn grinds into him, angling for his prostate. Alan bites his lip when he finds it, and Flynn holds his hip steady to keep the angle. He's trembling with the strain of the position by the time he feels Alan tense around him, and he manages to get a good look at the seat of the motorcycle, covered in Alan's come.

He pulls back and strokes himself to completion over Alan's perfect ass, and while Alan makes an indignant sound of protest, he doesn't actually seem too bothered, as he twists around to get a good look.

Alan leans his forehead against the speedometer as Flynn fixes his pants, still breathless.

"God, Alan, you're… you're so fucking perfect. That was like... the best fucking threesome, ever-"

"Threesome?" Alan asks, twisting around to regard him skeptically.

"Uh. Nevermind."


End file.
